Local hockey players are willing to go the extra miles to get in the game

As the city's brief but fiery fling with the New Orleans Brass fades into memory, ice hockey lovers in the city are without doubt a minority -- but a passionate one. For those who play the game, the nearest sheet of ice sits in a drab warehouse at the end of a dark unmarked road in eastern Baton Rouge.

Hilary Scheinuk / The Times-PicayuneA referee monitors the action in a recent Baton Rouge United Hockey Association game between the Spartans and Cyclones at Leo's Ice Rink.

"It's a relic of a world I knew growing up," said Leonard Alsfeld, of the ramshackle rink known as Leo's.

Alsfeld, a former center iceman for Providence College in Rhode Island, moved to New Orleans in 1981. From a warehouse in Elmwood and shopping center rinks in Kenner and eastern New Orleans to the Municipal Auditorium and New Orleans Arena, Alsfeld has seen numerous incarnations of ice rinks and hockey leagues in the New Orleans area come and almost inevitably disappear.

Until a few years ago when Alsfeld was injured after slamming head first into the boards, he played weekly in Baton Rouge.

Alsfeld devoted much of his hockey talent to creating an inline youth hockey league in New Orleans, which had a successful run for nearly 15 years, but no longer exists.

Next door to the ice rink, owner L. Perry Seaman also runs a larger and more modern roller skating rink, though currently there aren't any inline hockey leagues. An entrepreneurial carpenter during the depression, Seaman's father Leo opened the roller rink in 1946. The ice rink opened in 1976. The ice was on hiatus from 1983 to 1996, largely due to a spike in the cost of utilities, Seaman said. The Leo's complex has been on the market for 10 years, nevertheless it's clear Seaman genuinely enjoys the unique day-to-day operations, nearly all of which he does himself.

In spite of it being 80 miles away and not exactly a state-of-the-art ice rink, Leo's is hockey central for anyone in New Orleans who wants to feel ice beneath their blades.

One of the first things 33-year-old Ontario native Robert Mitchell did when he moved to New Orleans in 2007 was a Google search for "ice hockey" and "Louisiana." Two viable options appeared: Baton Rouge and Biloxi, Miss. Both were almost the same distance from New Orleans, but it was the Baton Rouge group he found to be more organized and responsive. Within a few months of relocating, Mitchell was back on the ice.

Hockey is like an addiction, players say, and one that seizes all the senses.

'A smell you miss'

There's the crispness of the indoor air, and the sensation of smooth ice beneath sharp metal blades. There's the swift sound of whispering scrapes made with each stride on a warmup lap around the perimeter of the rink. There's the sharp ping of a puck against the metal post, the referee's whistle, sticks tapping the ice, and the banter from the bench.

And there's nothing like the smell of a rink, Mitchell said. It's part sweaty equipment, part Zamboni fumes, part Freon.

"It's a stinky hockey smell but it's still a smell you miss," said Mitchell, who has been playing hockey since he was 3 and has a cousin who plays for the New York Rangers.

For Mitchell, who is the executive chef at the Convention Center Marriott, in addition to pure love of the sport, it's the camaraderie among the players that keeps him making the drive to Baton Rouge.

Hilary Scheinuk / The Times-PicayuneSpencer Harden, of the Spartans, watches his team play in a recent Baton Rouge United Association game. Harden is from Connecticut and now lives in New Orleans.

Once the skates hit the ice, it doesn't matter if you are a bartender from Boston, a dentist from Detroit or a neuroscientist from Newfoundland. There are waiters, writers, salesmen and sous chefs. There are 18-year-old students and 50-year-old cancer survivors. The second they step on the ice they are all the same: they are hockey players.

Joe Biderman has been carpooling with the same group of guys for nearly a decade. He plays at Leo's on Monday nights, when some of the area's top players gather for informal scrimmages.

"Everything gets pushed aside," said Biderman, a 61-year-old Metairie resident and owner of Hiller Jewelry. "It becomes just a group of guys playing pond hockey."

It doesn't matter that they dress in a room with folding tables and plastic chairs, the wall covered in Happy Birthday signs. It doesn't matter that there is a mysterious grayish brown substance dripping from the scaffolding. It doesn't even matter that the puck bounces a bit funny off the boards.

Getting the puck in the net is the only thing that matters during their time on the ice. Or, for goalies, of course, keeping it out.

And for those who love the speed, grace, and intensity of the game, it is well worth the miles, time and money.

On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays, the Baton Rouge United Hockey Association's eight teams, one of which Mitchell is a member, play officiated 45-minute games. Players commuting from the New Orleans area make up approximately 20 percent of the league.

Mitchell took last season off, unwilling to leave his wife on her own with a full-time job, a newborn, and a 2-year-old. But despite the late nights and long commute, he says his family is supportive of his return this season, as long as it's only once a week.

Biderman, the "elder statesman" of the Monday night league, said that for his wife of 35 years, hockey night can't come soon enough. "She says 'Yes, please go,'" Biderman laughed. "She understands it's important to me, to be with the guys and at my age, to still have that competitiveness."

Obstacles to overcome

Wednesday evenings at Leo's are reserved for the Tulane club team's practice. Alsfeld helped to create the team in 1996. Designated as their home ice, Tulane hosts visiting teams sporadically on weekends at Leo's, though most of its games are played away, traveling to locations as far as Miami and North Carolina.

It requires a huge commitment from his students, Tulane Coach Tim Lewellen said. But the team is winning games and showing signs of expansion. For the first time next year, Lewellen said, the team will hold tryouts.

Until last year, LSU had a club team that also practiced at Leo's. Alsfeld helped to start the team in 2006. But it isn't easy to sustain, said Alsfeld, who coached the team until 2010. The managerial needs and expenses, including ice rental and travel, can simply overwhelm the desire to compete, he conceded. Now the most devoted remnants of the LSU players keep the older BRUHA players on their toes.

Without an ice rink or a professional team to generate community interest and support, young people in New Orleans have about as much chance of learning to play hockey as a kid in Canada learning to hunt alligators.

Still, there are small signs of growth. Tulane's team is young, said Lewellen, with a bright future. And with a continuous supply of transplants from the north, the BRUHA has slowly but steadily increased in numbers since its inception in 1996.

As proven nearly every night inside Leo's, as long as there is a sheet of ice within 100 miles, New Orleanians will find their fellow hockey players, and will find a way to play.

"It's not like any other sport," said 25-year-old Jake Vanderwalt, of the fast pace and the connection that develops between players.

Vanderwalt, who plays in the BRUHA, just started playing hockey again this year after nearly 15 years away from the sport. Born in Minnesota, "I grew up with skates on my feet," Vanderwalt said. He played almost daily until his family moved to Texas and he was unable to continue playing. Getting back on the ice was amazing, he said. If an opportunity to play exists, Vanderwalt said, it doesn't matter how far the distance.

"Hockey is a part of you," he said. "If you have ever been involved, and fallen in love with it, you can't ever get away. It's just a part of you."